" Edwin acquiesced, as he
was to return with all speed to join his friend on the southern bank of
the Forth; and Helen, aware that scenes of blood were no scenes for
her, while her heart was wrung to agony at the thought of relinquishing
Wallace to new dangers, yielded a reluctant assent, not merely to go,
but to take that look of him which might be the last.
The sight of her uncle, and the objects around, had so recalled the
image of her father, that ever since her arrival a foreboding sadness
had hung over her spirits. She remembered that a few months ago she
had seen that beloved parent go out to battle, whence he never
returned. Should the same doom await her with regard to Wallace! The
idea shook her frame with an agitation that sunk her, in spite of
herself, on the bosom of this trust of friends, when Edwin approached
to lead her to her horse. Her emotions penetrated the heart against
which she leaned.
"My gentle sister," said Wallace, "do not despair of our final success;
of the safety of all whom you regard."
"Ah! Wallace," faltered she, in a voice rendered hardly audible by
tears, "but did I not lose my father?"
"Sweet Helen," returned he, tenderly grasping her trembling hand, "you
lost him, but he gained by the exchange.
Pages:
978
979
980
981
982
983
984
985
986
987
988
989
990
991
992
993
994
995
996
997
998
999
1000
1001
1002